


Paladin Theatre

by LaLionne (otayuriistheliteralbest)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Community Theatre AU, Found Family, Garrison trio, M/M, Public Sex, SHEITH - Freeform, Semi-Public Sex, Sheith Reverse Bang, Switching, Wall Sex, background Pidge/Hunk/Lance, mentions of Narti/Zethrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/pseuds/LaLionne
Summary: "Rule Number One in my theatre: please do not have sex in it,” Allura levelled a look at Shiro, who choked, eyes wide. “Not on the catwalk, not in the wings or the sound booth, and definitely not in the green room. I’ve walked in on one too many theatre couples and I do not want to walk in on any others. Do I make myself clear?”---Shiro joins the Paladin Theatre after injury forces him out of a job. There, he finds a new kind of family, and maybe something more after a certain triple threat actor comes crashing into his life.





	1. Giants in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> My original plan for this fic was "how many times and locations can I get Keith and Shiro to fuck in the theatre?" and turned into so much more. Thank you so very much to softieghost, voxane, and accidental-mormon for your many, MANY edits that made this fic so much stronger, and thank you to my partner in crime on this project, Kei, for letting me just completely derail your original plans for our contribution because my muse wanted to go a different direction.
> 
> Enjoy the show!
> 
> Cast List (note not all characters will appear in the fic):  
> 

Gravel crunched under Shiro’s boots as he made his way up the path to the small community theatre. He didn’t know what he was doing here, but after his accident and getting laid off from work, he didn’t have many options open to him. Allura had offered to give him some work as a stagehand,  _ ha ha very funny _ , but he’d take what he could get.

The side door to the theatre creaked open when he turned the handle, and the entire space was pitch black. He squinted and could see the outline of the stage above him before the door closed behind him. Shiro was about to call out when the stage lights suddenly came on, blinding him.

Shiro blinked away the bright spots in his eyes right as a man came bounding onto the stage from behind the black curtains as music started to build up. The stage was bare but for the actor, and Shiro glanced around to better see his surroundings. Plush red velvet chairs sat neatly in rows filling the audience, stretching back to what Shiro assumed was the lobby. He turned his gaze back to the stage. 

_ “There are giants in the sky! There are big, tall terrible giants in the sky!”  _

Shiro was rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from the man, enraptured by the strength in his voice as he belted out the lyrics to the song. The actor paced from one side of the stage to the other as he put so much emotion into the words that Shiro could feel it in his bones. The man sang of scaling a beanstalk, exploration, the unknown. He ended on his knees centerstage, his arms outstretched. There was this powerful energy to him, something that made his heart race and break at the same time. 

The moment the music stopped, Shiro couldn’t help but to applaud. His claps resounded loudly in the large auditorium, and they were the only ones. He faltered, embarrassed, as the actor on the stage squinted through the stage lights to try to see just who was applauding him. 

“Who’s there?” the man projected. “This is a closed rehearsal.”

“It’s quite alright, Keith, this is the new stagehand I was telling you about,” Allura’s familiar lilt piped up from the back of the auditorium, and Shiro glanced behind him to find her walking toward him through a row of seats. Allura raised her voice, tilting her head back. “Zethrid, could you turn on the house lights for us?”

The main lights came on in the auditorium, and Allura smiled warmly at Shiro. “I’m so glad that you agreed to join us, Shiro.”

Shiro tripped over one of the seats, cursing under his breath, and met Allura at the aisle.

“What show is this? That song was incredible!” Shiro asked.

Allura took in the glint in Shiro’s eye, the flush that had spread across his face, and grinned as if she knew something he didn’t.

“I can’t believe you haven’t heard of  _ Into the Woods _ , Shiro. It’s one of Sondheim’s most revered works,” she said to him, turning back toward the stage to address the actor. “That was very good, Keith. Be careful how you use the space, I don’t want you overextending yourself. You were getting breathy by the end of the song.”

The actor, Keith, scratched his head and nodded at Allura, a scowl on his face. “I’ll work on it,” he replied.

“Very good,” Allura said. “Take 10 and we shall resume from the top of the scene. I’m going to show Shiro around in the interim.”

Keith nodded and walked offstage into the wings. The last glimpse Shiro saw of him, the other man snatched up a bottle of water from a side table, walking away with an easy gait. He didn’t realize his head was tilted to the side as he stared off after Keith until he heard Allura clearing her throat next to him.

She quirked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Shiro, a wry grin on her face.

“Shall we? I wasn’t lying when I told Keith I would be showing you around,” she said, one arm gesturing out to the aisle beside them.

Shiro gave Allura a crooked smile. “Sure, of course.” Allura took the lead, bringing him down the aisle and up the stairs onto the stage.

“Now, not all theatres are set up the same way, and not all of our shows are, either. The basic idea of the musical is that it is a darker version of the classic fairy tales all spun together into one tale,” Allura said as they walked.

“For this production of Into the Woods, we have the actors coming off the stage into the audience, thus the staircase. We also have some of the smaller scenes in the boxes, like when one of the Princes meets Rapunzel in her tower.” 

Allura waved her hand up at the box closest to the stage, where Shiro could see a wrought iron ladder bolted to the wall. It had been painted in greens and golds to match the wall behind it, and it blended in so well with the designs painted on to the wall that Shiro hadn’t even noticed it from the audience—of course, he  _ had _ been a bit distracted.

They walked further upstage, their steps echoing lightly on the hardwood floor of the stage.

“Now, what I need you to do is going to be pretty simple. We have lists of props and set pieces on the walls and tables in the wings,” she pointed to either side of the stage to indicate to Shiro what she meant, “and your job will be to keep track of everything and make sure that all set pieces and props come out when they are supposed to. We have a stage manager, a man by the name of Throk, but you will be his right-hand man and make sure that everything is running smoothly.” 

Shiro didn’t miss the snide tone in Allura’s voice, and wondered if the real reason why she had insisted that he help out was because of this Throk. Allura gestured to a dimly-lit stairwell at the back of the stage.

“Now down the backstage stairs are our dressing rooms and green room. Rule Number One in my theatre: please do  _ not  _ have sex in it,” Allura levelled a look at Shiro, who choked, eyes wide. “Not on the catwalk, not in the wings or the sound booth, and definitely  _ not _ in the green room. I’ve walked in on one too many theatre couples and I do not want to walk in on any others. Do I make myself clear?”

Shiro didn’t know what to say; he didn’t even  _ know _ anyone at this theatre yet.  _ Who had sex where they worked?? _ He had apparently paused for too long, because Allura crossed her arms and tapped a foot at him.

“Of—of course I won’t, Allura!” Shiro stuttered.

She nodded her head firmly, reassured. “I would recommend you read over the script to familiarize yourself with the musical,” Allura said. “There are some confusing parallel scenes in both acts that you do not want to mix up. I also have the official DVD of the Broadway show, if you would prefer to watch that. My uncle, Coran, can lend it to you. He has it in our office.”

Coran had come up beside the pair while they were talking, taking Shiro by surprise.

“A pleasure to have you with us, Shiro. Allura has told me so much about you,” Coran said, holding out his hand for Shiro to shake. His New Zealand accent threw Shiro for a second and he glanced at Allura with a quizzical look.

“Coran is more of an...adopted uncle. He was my father’s best friend,” Allura explained.

“Ahh,” Shiro said with a sheepish grin. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“If you ever have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!” Coran said, twirling his bright red moustache. “I know the ins and outs of this theatre like the back of my hand.” He raised his hand to show Shiro, making him laugh.

“Coran helped me to restore the Paladin Theatre after my father passed away,” Allura said with a sad smile. “Believe him when he says he knows everything about the place. He’s also our front office manager and my assistant director.”

“I’ll let you know if I have any questions, Coran. Thank you,” Shiro said.

“Of course, Shiro!” Coran replied. “We’ll be talking more later, I have no doubt.”

Coran and Allura walked back down the steps to the director’s booth, discussing plans for the rest of the day in hushed tones, leaving Shiro standing centerstage.

Shiro put his hands on his hips, surveying the theatre. This would be an adventure.

* * *

 

A month passed, and Shiro learned something different every day at the theatre. He expected everyone’s roles in the theatre to be clear-cut, but that wasn’t the case. Sure, as a stagehand he did a ton of heavy lifting, set painting, and everything they could think of to help with the production, but it wasn’t just the crew that got into the hard work of getting the sets ready. All of the actors, from the big guy named Hunk who played the baker to the littlest actor, Pidge, who was playing Little Red Riding Hood, pulled their weight getting everything ready for the show.

Keith, however, intrigued Shiro the most. He always kept away from Shiro since the first day. He always seemed to have other projects to work on while Shiro was around. There was something about him that just stuck in Shiro’s mind, and he couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried.

* * *

 

“It isn’t the case in all theatres, but our troupe is so small that everyone has to pull their weight to get our productions up and running,” Pidge said. They were bent over a piece of the scenery—“This is called a ‘flat’,” Lance had informed him with an eye roll—they were painting in the theatre parking lot to look like the inside of the baker’s house. The hot summer sun was beating down on Shiro’s neck, and he was already sweating after ten minutes in the dry heat.

“It just all depends on the troupe and the theatre itself, I suppose.”

“How so?” Shiro asked, focusing on dipping his paintbrush in the bucket, his tongue between his teeth. He wasn’t much of a painter.

“Well, take me for example. I’ve worked with a bunch of different theatre companies. In some, the actors and crew members have completely separate tasks, and you wouldn’t find an actor sitting out here in the scorching heat painting scenery with those troupes.” She flashed Shiro a grin. 

“But with Allura’s theatre, everyone helps out. We all have our own specialties, but everyone has to be an active participant. The pay isn’t the best, but it feels more… more like a family. We’re all equal at the Paladin Theatre, even Allura, who probably works more than the rest of us combined. She doesn’t want us to think she thinks she’s better than the rest of us, and takes home the same paycheck as we do.”

“I had no idea she did that.” He glanced up at Pidge, who was humming merrily to herself as she painted, glasses resting on top of her head to hold her hair short back. “You know a lot about the theatre, Pidge. How long have you been acting?”

“Since I was five years old,” she told him, counting out on her fingers in thought. “So… eighteen years.”

Shiro stalled in his painting, the brush dripping tan-colored paint on the flat as he stared at Pidge. “You’re 23 years old? You’re joking.” He’d thought she was in high school, and was constantly wondering how she could keep getting out of school to come to the theatre for rehearsals during the day.

Pidge grinned impishly at him, one eyebrow raised. “I’m not joking. Everyone always thinks I’m a kid, maybe 14 or 16 years old at the  _ most _ . That works well for a lot of the shows I’ve been in, since they’re all adult casts, so it means I get to play characters like Little Red Riding Hood. It’s my own little niche in the theatre world.”

Shiro smiled back and focused his attention on the puddle of paint that had formed on the flat while he was distracted. Oops.

“So what about everyone else?”  _ What about Keith? What’s his story? _ he wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Pidge looked up, tapping the handle of the paint brush against her chin.

“We’re all a mish mash, I think. We almost all love the theatre, though I can think of one or two exceptions,” she grumbled to herself. “A lot of us are lifelong theatre lovers, or we’ve been acting for practically longer than we can remember. Hunk, Lance, and I all went to the same college and just gravitated to the Paladin Theatre. Allura treats us like family, so we stayed.

“Keith’s an interesting one,” Pidge continued, a small quirk of the lips the only hint that maybe she knew that he’d been digging for one particular reason. “He’s had a hard time opening up around us, but he’s really serious about his work. He’s what we call a ‘triple threat’—he’s an incredible actor, singer,  _ and _ dancer. 

“It’s amazing to see him act, because it’s like he flips a switch in his mind and  _ becomes _ this other person, whatever character he’s portraying at that moment. His posture, his expressions, everything changes. I wish it were that easy for  _ me _ to get inside my characters’ heads.”

Shiro patted her on the shoulder. “Everyone is different. You’re amazing onstage.”

Pidge laughed and grinned up at him. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments, but thank you.” She sat back on her heels, staring down at the flat. “Ok, this needs to dry before we can put the finishing touches on it. Let’s get out of the sun.”

Shiro heaved himself off of the ground, wincing as his shoulder twinged, making him fall to his knees with a grunt. He shook out his arm, and it thankfully stopped throbbing when the weight was off it. He wasn’t always that lucky. Shiro looked over to find Pidge staring at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

Shiro stood up shakily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated this conversation. “I was in the military before this, and got injured badly enough last year that I was honorably discharged. I couldn’t work anymore, not the way I’m used to, anyway.”

Shiro held out his arm in front of him, staring at the crisscross of scars. He could see the poorly-healed lump in his forearm where bone had broken through… He shuddered and looked back at Pidge. 

“Allura and I are friends from college, and she offered to help me out. I know I’m not a theatre person like you guys, but I’m a hard worker, and I hope I can prove myself to you all.”

Pidge patted him on his good shoulder. “Well, you have my vote. And you’re learning, so we won’t have to tell you what flats and the scrim and rain lights are soon.” The corner of her mouth curved into a smile, and Shiro laughed, letting go of his bad arm.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s get inside before we burn to a crisp.”

They continued to chat about the theatre as they made their way back inside. Shiro glanced up right before they reached the door to find Keith leaning against the side of the theatre. His steely grey eyes stared Shiro down, a curious unreadable expression on his face.

* * *

 

“No, it doesn’t go right there it—“ 

A crash sounded, echoing throughout the theatre.

Allura pinched the wrinkle in between her eyebrows.

“And just what on earth is going on back there, Throk?” She raised her voice to be heard from the audience of the theatre.

Silence reigned. Allura had her angry director voice on, and the actors, at the very least, knew better than to respond.

Throk, however, was not that smart.

“Your ridiculous new  _ stagehand— _ ” everyone could hear the sneer in his voice. “—was trying to set up for the willow tree scene and managed to break one of the chairs back here—”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” He was interrupted by a very angry-sounding Lance McClain, who stormed out to center stage, his hands on his hips. “Allura, Throk was trying to move the throne on his own, when it isn’t even  _ in _ this scene—” he glared offstage at the useless stage manager, who opted to remain hidden in the shadows of the wings “—and refused Shiro’s help. He toppled it over and almost hit me with it!”

“Throk, get out here  _ right now _ .” The demand in Allura’s voice was steely, laced with months of anger over every little thing that the stage manager had done, or not done, to damage their production. Throk at least had the decency to come out from behind the curtains looking ashamed, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

“It wasn’t my fault, Allura, like I said—” he started.

“I don’t need any more excuses from you, Throk. Time and again you’ve jeopardised this production and everyone who is taking part in it. I want you out of my sight in the next five minutes and I never want you to step foot in my theatre again. Do I make myself clear?” 

Throk paled, wringing his hands in front of him. “Crystal.”

“Shiro?” Allura’s voice rang out.

He walked out onto the stage, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes, Allura?” Shiro asked hesitantly.

“How would you feel about taking over as stage manager for this production?” Allura asked. “The other crew can help you get into the swing of it, but it would help us immensely if you think you are up to it.”

Shiro jerked back, surprised that Allura trusted him enough to ask him to take over. He bit his lip in thought, his mind racing. From what he could tell, he had been doing the majority of Throk’s job for him as it was. If there was anything that needed to be added on to his workload, Shiro thought he could handle it.  

“Yeah, I can do it.”

* * *

 

By the end of Shiro’s first week as stage manager, he was exhausted but happy. Thankfully, the actors and other crew members were there to help him along the way. He hadn’t realized just how much he had already been doing for Throk while the other man half-assed his job. Keeping track of all the set pieces and props, making sure that everything got out on time and everything was perfectly in place... beyond staying on book to cue sound and lights, he’d practically been stage manager in all but title.  

They had just finished up rehearsal late Saturday night, and Shiro tugged the head set off and settled it on his neck, collapsing on the couch backstage. He rubbed at his face, willing some feeling to get back into it, when he felt a tap of something cold on his shoulder. Shiro peeked between his fingers up at the person to find Keith standing there with a can of beer in each hand. He looked grumpy, his lips curled in a moue of discomfort.

“You’ve done well, Shiro. Thanks for taking over being stage manager,” Keith said, handing off the beer to Shiro, who opened it, revelling in the hiss of the can as the tab popped, and took a long sip.

Keith plopped down on the couch beside Shiro, cracking open his own beer. He stretched out his long legs and crossed them, sighing as he settled into the cushions.

“This probably has to have been one of the most successful weeks we’ve had,” Keith said. “Not to say that there is anything wrong with the cast and crew we have, but Throk slowed us down a  _ lot _ . We all appreciate you.”

It was the most Keith had said to him in the entire time Shiro had been working at the theatre, and he was more than a little surprised.

“I—whu—thank… you?” Shiro was flummoxed. Of all the people in the theatre, Keith had talked to him the least.

Keith crossed his arms and took another swig from his beer, staring at the tops of his boots. “If I’m honest with you… When you came here, I thought you were just in it for quick money, since you’re not a theatre person. I didn’t think that you were really going to be much help.” He glanced up at Shiro. “You proved me wrong.”

A light flush came over Keith’s cheeks at his little speech, and he looked anywhere but at Shiro in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Shiro laughed and turned in the couch so that he was facing Keith, one knee up on the cushions just barely grazing Keith’s leg.

“Thank you for your honesty, Keith,” he said. “Certainly not what I was expecting from you, but I get it. And now that you’ve apparently accepted me,” he grinned at that, “let me say again that you are incredible. Since you obviously didn’t want to hear it that first time I came to the theatre and barged in on your rehearsal.”

Keith mumbled something incoherent into the rim of his beer and took a long sip, avoiding Shiro’s gaze.

“What was that?” Shiro asked, hiding his grin behind one hand.

Keith sat upright, near-empty beer can held loosely in his hand. He pointed at Shiro with that hand and said, “Hey, you’ve read the script, right?”

Shiro tilted his head at Keith, curious about what the other man was getting at with his question.

“Yeah… I thought it was important that I know the whole show. Why?”

“Would you run lines with me? Our Jack’s Mother actress, Krolia, she’s out a lot working another job and it makes it hard to rehearse sometimes. Allura helps as best she can, but she has a lot on her plate. And the other actors… they’re good people, I just. I have a hard time talking to people.”

Shiro smiled at Keith. “I’d be happy to help. When did you have in mind?”

Keith perked up. “Tomorrow? After rehearsal in the afternoon? Unless you’re busy…” He trailed off, uncertainty in his face.

Shiro downed the rest of his beer and crunched up the can. “Nah, tomorrow’s fine for me. I’m free most of the time I’m not here, anyway.”

Keith stood up from the couch, offering a hand to Shiro, who took it and pulled himself off of the couch as well. He inadvertently ended up just a  _ little _ too close to Keith, who flushed and took a small step backward. It took Shiro a moment to realize that he was still holding Keith’s hand and he released it.

_ Cute _ , Shiro thought, taking in the sparkle in Keith’s eyes and the little pout at the corners of his mouth. Shiro wondered what that mouth tasted like and shook his head at himself the moment the thought entered his head. No need to develop one-sided crushes on coworkers. It wouldn’t end well for him; Shiro knew from personal experience. He smiled down at Keith and clapped a hand on the actor’s shoulder, rubbing his shoulder with his thumb reassuringly.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he said.

“Yeah… see you then,” Keith replied. He walked away from Shiro and spared him a backwards glance that Shiro couldn’t quite read.

* * *

They met any chance they had in the green room to go over Keith’s lines and blocking together, drink a beer or two, and relax from the day away from everyone else. It was like their own little bubble away from the rest of the cast and crew where they were the only ones who existed.

As the weeks passed, the little touches grew bolder. Shiro’s hand lingered on Keith’s shoulder just a little bit longer, and their knees bumped when they sat on the couch together. When they rehearsed lines, Shiro sat at one end of the couch with Keith’s legs crossed over his. Keith draped one arm over his eyes as he ran lines, so Shiro was able to stare as much as he wished at the way Keith’s muscles flexed and that little gap where his shirt rode up to reveal a toned dancer’s abs. 

The more they met, the harder Shiro’s heart beat a thudding staccato in his chest. He didn’t know what Keith wanted from him, if anything. He only knew that he wanted this to last.

* * *

 

Shiro was nervous— _ why was he nervous? _ —as he made himself comfortable on the couch in the green room that had become their haven. It was tiny, stuffed full of arm chairs and couches that were deemed too worn down to be used on stage anymore.

He couldn’t figure out why, but lately Shiro couldn’t stop thinking about Allura’s warning— _ no sex in the green room _ —when Keith stomped into the room, making a beeline for the refrigerator that had been stuffed into a corner of the room. He grabbed two beers from the cold interior, cracking one open and guzzling half of it in one go.

Shiro hadn’t seen the last half of rehearsal, having been sent off to run errands for Allura. He knew that Keith and one of the other actors, Lance, didn’t always get along, and it had been a long rehearsal that afternoon.

“Everything okay, there?” Shiro asked tentatively. The last thing he wanted to do was get in the middle of a fight. He shifted his weight on the couch as Keith paused, guzzled the last of his beer, and cracked open the second one. Instead of hanging on to the second beer for himself, Keith handed it off to Shiro, who took it with a tentative smile. 

“It’s nothing,” Keith said after a long pause. “Just a stressful day with far too many little annoyances. Some days I can handle it, but today was not that day.”

“So do you still want to go over lines?” Shiro asked.

Keith plopped himself down on the couch next to Shiro with a groan, rubbing at his temples.

“Honestly? Not really. I just want to hang out and not think about anything.”

“Do you… want me to go, then?” Shiro asked, making as if to get up from the couch and leave. He understood needing to be alone sometimes.

“No!” Keith’s hand shot out to Shiro’s shoulder, keeping him down. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small, and Shiro’s breath hitched at the thought that Keith could so easily hold him down. “I want you right where you are. Here, with me.”

Shiro could see the glint of  _ something _ , a passing thought, in Keith’s eyes, and he steeled himself.

“And just what do you want to do, exactly?” Shiro brought one hand up to cover Keith’s on his shoulder. He let the unspoken question sit in the air between them. They stood on the precipice of change. They could still pretend that it was nothing, they could remain colleagues and maybe stay on this path to friendship that they were on—it was all up to Keith to decide in that one moment. 

Keith plunged over the edge of the cliff. He raised himself up on the couch and tugged the untouched beer from Shiro’s hand, placing it haphazardly on the coffee table behind them. He straddled Shiro’s hips in one sure movement and locked his arms around Shiro’s neck. He came so very close, his breath ghosting over Shiro’s skin.

“I want you right about here. If that’s okay with you, of course,” Keith said.

Shiro gripped Keith’s hips, tugging him closer. “Really? Because I’d love to be even closer,” he murmured, his voice rough with want.

“We’ll see about that,” Keith said, drawing his face closer to Shiro’s. Shiro bridged the gap, making Keith gasp and twist in his lap. He dug his fingers into Keith’s hips to hold him in place. Their kiss was rough and felt like so much pent-up energy of the past couple months released all at once. It overwhelmed Shiro’s senses until he forgot how to breathe. They broke away, gasping for air for only a moment, before clashing together again.

Keith ground his erection down onto Shiro’s cock, making him groan into Keith’s mouth. Shiro ran one hand up Keith’s back, loosening his grip on his other hip to ride the sensation of not-enough friction.

Keith cursed and shifted back slightly on Shiro’s lap, one hand hovering over the snap of Shiro’s jeans.

“Can I…?” He asked.

Shiro’s eyes were blown wide with want at the half-formed question.

“Fuck, yes please,” he managed to get out. Keith grinned at him, quickly unsnapping the button and tugging the jeans down. Shiro lifted himself off of the couch to help as much as he was able, and pulled on the band of his boxers, releasing his cock from its confines. Keith stared for only a moment before hopping off of Shiro’s lap and kneeling on the floor between his legs.

“What are you—?” Shiro started to ask.

“Unless you planned for this we don’t have lube, and I’m not too keen on destroying either of our asses on an attempt without it,” Keith replied. “And right now, I  _ really _ want to suck you off. That okay?”

He looked uncertainly up at Shiro, and the sight of him like that was almost more than he could bear.

“God, fuck yes,  _ please _ ,” Shiro said, his hips thrusting upward of their own accord.

Keith didn’t need any other command; he took Shiro’s erection in hand and ducked down to tease the tip of his cock with his tongue. Shiro groaned, his head falling back against the back of the couch. Heat encased his tip, and Shiro lifted his head up to watch Keith swirl his tongue around his tip and then lick up the shaft before plunging down.

Keith pumped Shiro’s length with one hand, timed perfectly as he went down on him with his mouth. Shiro couldn’t see Keith's other hand, but judging from the movement of his arm, hidden by the edge of the couch cushion, he thought Keith was jerking himself off. He squirmed at the thought, his face flushed as his hips stuttered. It took everything he had to keep from thrusting upward, leaving him quivering and teetering toward the edge.

Shiro reached out and cupped Keith’s jaw with one hand, guiding him. It had been so long since anyone had touched him that it overwhelmed him.

“Keith, I’m going to—” Shiro said brokenly, trying to warn him. Keith kept going, and Shiro came in his mouth. Keith swallowed his come, burying his face as far down Shiro’s length as he could go. Shiro bit the sleeve of his shirt to muffle his moans. Shiro’s hips shifted of their own accord, and he stared down hazy-eyed at Keith as he wiped what little come had escaped his mouth with one hand, grinning up at Shiro.

“So I take it that you liked the blowjob?” Keith asked cheekily, resting his head on Shiro’s thigh.

“ _ Liked _ it?” Shiro laughed, swiping at his sweat-soaked fringe with his free hand. He paused, remembering something. “Wait, what about you? I can—”

Keith bit his lip. “I already came. The way you were squirming and moaning was enough to drive me up a wall.” Keith laughed. “I’ll have to wipe that up before Allura sees it.”

At the mention of Allura, Shiro shot upright, blushing as he tugged awkwardly at his boxers and jeans to cover himself back up in a hurry. Keith smirked at him and bit his lip in amusement at the panicked look in Shiro’s eyes.

“ _ Shit _ , I just broke one of her only rules, she’s going to  _ kill _ me!”

Keith leaned up and cut off Shiro’s rant with a searing kiss, pouring himself into it. They broke away from each other, panting. Keith rolled his eyes, waving his hand nonchalantly. 

“Allura only says that because she’s caught far too many of the others having sex here—Narti and Zethrid spend way too much time up in the sound and lighting booth than strictly necessary, if you know what I mean, and Hunk, Pidge, and Lance aren’t what you would call terribly secretive.”

Shiro tilted his head, processing Keith’s statement. “Those three are together?”

Keith stood, stuffing himself back into his pants and zipping up before Shiro could see anything. He stretched one arm over his head, twisting along his spine, and then the other, and grabbed a paper towel from the kitchenette on the other side of the room, wetting it at the sink. He crouched down at Shiro’s feet and wiped up the hardwood under the couch as he spoke.

“Yeah, they’ve been together for years now. They even have a nickname—‘Garrison Trio’—from their days at the Garrison Theatre,” Keith said. He lobbed the dirty paper towel into the trash bin behind him and flopped bonelessly onto the couch beside Shiro. He stretched out lengthwise on the couch, crossing his legs over Shiro’s thighs. Shiro took comfort in the familiar pose and settled his hands on Keith’s calves.

“So…” Keith said slowly. “What do you want this to be?” He waved a hand between the two of them.

Shiro tensed up. “I’m not really a ‘fuck buddies’ kind of guy, so if that’s what you’re looking for, you’re out of luck.”

“Good. I’m not, either,” Keith replied with a relieved smile. “In that case, what are you doing tonight? Want to go out to dinner?”

“I would love to,” Shiro said. He ran a hand along Keith’s calf, reassuring himself that this was real, that he wasn’t just having a  _ really _ vivid dream.

A fast ride on Keith’s motorcycle that had Shiro holding on tight to Keith’s waist and a half hour later found the two of them at a hole-in-the-wall diner on the other end of town, sharing a large basket of cheesy fries and barbeque chicken wings.

Shiro took a sip of his oreo milkshake as he watched Keith shovel fries in his mouth. “So, how did you get into the theatre?” Shiro asked, genuinely curious. For all that they had spent so much time together in the past couple months, the topic had never come up.

Keith shrugged and dipped a fry into the pool of ketchup he’d poured into the basket when it arrived.

“I haven’t been in the theatre as long as some of the others. I found it, or I guess  _ it _ found  _ me _ , my freshman year of college. One of the actors in the theatre department’s production of Grease got sick and he was dating his understudy, so they were both out for the count. The director knew me from the choir department and stole me for the opening weekend of the show.”

Keith spun one of the fries between his fingers. “I had a blast, and started volunteering at the community theatre in my hometown in the summers. When I moved out here after college, I found Allura’s theatre. I started out as a stagehand, like you, but one day she overheard me singing to myself in the wings while I worked and made me audition for the show...and the rest was history.” 

Keith paused to munch on a chicken wing and pointed at Shiro with the bone. “What about you? You definitely aren’t a blood-and-bones thespian. Why did Allura offer you a job?”

Shiro stiffened and tried to shrug off the question. “I know you overheard my conversation with Pidge a while back…”

Keith scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, I was just taking a break away from Lance’s chatter, I don’t really remember what it was. It doesn’t take much for that guy to get on my nerves, honestly. When I realized you and Pidge were outside, I just tried to make myself scarce. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Shiro said. “Lance can be a handful to deal with sometimes. As to your question…” Shiro steeled himself. Even Allura didn’t know all the details, but if he and Keith were going to be more than just a fling, he thought Keith should know. 

“I used to be in the military, and was running routine training,” Shiro said, his voice bitter.    
“There was an accident, and one second I was standing, the next… the next I was on the ground, my arm broken in multiple places and everyone is screaming for the medic. 

“The details are fuzzy, but after that, I was discharged from active duty. Most of the time, my arm is fine, if mangled-looking, but there are times where it just can’t hold any weight, it hurts so much. I never know when it’ll happen, and the doctors say that it may never go away.” 

Shiro held his arm, his hand over the worst of the scars as if he could hide it, hide the shame and frustration of it. “I’ve known Allura since we were kids, and when I showed up in town again, she told me she would have a place for me here, if I wanted it, once I’d healed enough. I wasn’t sure about it at first, but it… honestly, it was my only option, and I’m so glad that I took it.”

Shiro saw a look of—understanding, not pity—pass over Keith’s face, and he nodded at Shiro, plunking the chicken wing bone back in the basket.

He took a sip of his diet coke. “Allura is pretty good at that. Finding people who need a place to belong, I mean. Throk notwithstanding, the theatre really is like one big family. It’s nice to have people you know you can rely on.”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, grateful that Keith hadn’t asked anything more about his injury. “I definitely am getting that sense.”

Keith dropped Shiro off at his apartment with a goodnight kiss in the parking lot and a promise to pick him up in the morning to go over to the theatre together, since Shiro had left his car in the lot when they went on their impromptu date.

“See you tomorrow, then,” Shiro murmured into Keith’s ear as they hugged goodbye.

“Tomorrow,” Keith responded, pulling away first. He swung one leg over his bike, clipping on his helmet, and gave Shiro a nod with two fingers raised in a little salute. He revved the engine and peeled off to home and his own bed.

The door clicked shut behind Shiro; he locked it and turned to lean his back against it, sliding down a little. He was grinning like a fool, but there was no one but his black and white cat, Minerva, to see him, and she never cared what he did so long as it occasionally involved petting her.

The near future, at least, seemed just a little brighter than it had the day before. Shiro shoved off of the front door and headed to bed, excited for the morning.


	2. Moments in the Woods

"I don't care if you're the Prince, I can't spot you if you don't hit your mark," Zethrid yelled from the lighting booth. Shiro was nowhere near awake enough to deal with the cast and crew fighting one another and took a giant swig of coffee from his travel mug.

Lance gave an indignant sputter and crossed his arms. “I  _ am _ in my spot, see? Nice little pink X right here where I’m standing.”

“The pink marks are for Jack’s Mother. The  _ red _ marks are for you,” Zethrid replied, tilting the spotlight to shine right on Lance’s face. “Are you Jack’s mother?”

Lance blushed and looked down at the stage, shaking his head. He looked around the floor and found his correct spot, stepping hurriedly into it. Zethrid gave a small grunt of approval and the rehearsal continued.

Shiro saw Allura sitting in her usual spot in the audience not too far from the stage and stepped his way through the row to reach her.

“Good morning, Shiro,” she said tiredly. “We have a full day today, and it looks like we are going to be a while with the Princes’ first rendition of Agony. We aren’t going to be handling any of the set or props, so would you be willing to work through lines and blocking with Keith in the rehearsal room since Krolia isn’t here today?”

Shiro glanced to Keith and back to Allura, trying to ignore the impish look that had crossed Keith’s face at the request.

“I—yes, of course, I can do that,” Shiro replied.

“Keith, I need you to work on Act II,” Allura said, turning to Keith. “Just run through all of your lines and blocking with Shiro so that we’re ready to go later today.”

“You’ve got it, Allura,” Keith said, tugging on Shiro’s sleeve. He jerked his head to the side, motioning for Shiro to follow him into the back of the stage.

They wound down the stairwell and walked past the green room, Shiro blushing at the memory of what they had done in there the night before. The hallway opened up to a small room where the actors could rehearse their scenes when they weren’t busy on the stage itself, or someone else was rehearsing and they wanted a place to practice away from the noise.

Shiro threw down his backpack just inside the door and set his travel mug on the table to the side of the room. The door clicked shut behind them, and if Shiro had been more awake, he may have been able to hear Keith turn the lock on the door.

“So, where would you like to star— _ mfph _ !” Shiro began to ask, when Keith interrupted him with a kiss. Shiro stumbled back against the wall as Keith’s weight settled against him, and brought his hands up to clutch at Keith’s shoulders. He broke away from Keith, pushing back on his shoulders to give himself a little space.

“What are you doing, Keith?” He asked, out of breath.

“Well, Allura said that they would be a while up there,” Keith said, looking up at Shiro with hooded eyes. “And I have all of act two memorised, so I was thinking…” he pressed his growing erection against Shiro’s own cock, which was starting to stir at the attention. “Why not have a little fun while we wait?”

Shiro groaned and leaned his head back, hitting it hard against the wall. He winced and released Keith to rub at the back of his head.

“Okay, yeah. We can definitely do that.” He nodded enthusiastically and then stilled. “I didn’t bring anything with me, though.”

Keith bit his lip and grinned at Shiro. “I may have been planning this since last night…” He bent down and rummaged through his backpack, coming up with a large bottle of lube.

Shiro raised an eyebrow at the size of the bottle. “Just how are you planning to spend your day, exactly?”

Keith laughed and stood up to press a firm kiss against Shiro’s lips. “Better to be prepared than not.”

Shiro stifled the noise that tried to make its way out of his throat and gripped the back of Keith’s hair, pulling him into a long, drawn-out kiss. Keith ground his hips into Shiro’s, but the minimal pressure barely scratched the surface and he growled in frustration.

“Top or bottom?” Shiro asked, voice heavy with want. 

Keith shot him a grateful smile. “God, with that question? Top. Everyone always assumes I’m bottom-only because of my size.”

“Same here for topping,” Shiro said with a grin.

Keith’s body gave an involuntary shake and he shifted his hips against Shiro’s to get a little friction. He leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of Shiro’s ear and whispered, “I want to fuck you against the wall.”

This time, Shiro wasn’t able to hold back the moan that escaped his throat. 

“I take it you like the sound of that?” Keith said with a smirk. 

Shiro didn’t trust himself to say anything and nodded his head in response.

“Well then,” Keith said, “We are both wearing far too many clothes.” He started to kiss down Shiro’s neck to his collarbone, unbuttoning his shirt as he went, kissing every inch of skin that he revealed. Shiro kicked off his shoes as best he could, not paying attention to where they landed.

“Such a shame,” Shiro gasped, tangling his fingers in Keith’s hair. “We should do something about that.”

Keith tugged the collared shirt out of Shiro’s slacks and licked his navel, making Shiro snort. Keith waggled his eyebrows up at Shiro from where he knelt at his feet.

“Thank you for the lack of belt,” Keith said. Before Shiro could ask why, Keith’s mouth was on the closure of his pants, teeth tugging at the fabric. The button gave way, and he carefully took the zipper between his teeth and tugged it down. The slacks dropped down to pool at Shiro’s feet, and he stepped out of them, nudging them out of the way. 

Keith stood up and stepped away from Shiro to eye him, a feral look in his eyes. He tugged his t-shirt off and tossed it on the ground, quickly undoing his jeans and shucking them and his boxers off in one go.

Finally, Keith stood naked in front of Shiro, lazily pumping his cock with one hand.

“Well, are you going to take off your briefs? I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Keith asked with a smirk. 

Shiro snapped out of his stupor and tugged his briefs down by the waistband, his erection springing out. The tip leaked with precome; it had been a while since he’d been fucked, and the thought excited him more than he would have thought.

Keith twirled his finger in a circle. “Turn around and brace yourself against the wall,” he ordered.

Shiro obeyed immediately, resting his head on his folded arms and spreading his legs wide, his ass jutting out for Keith.

Keith picked up the bottle of lube from where he’d dropped it and slicked up his cock. He padded over to Shiro and ran his hand over Shiro’s ass, tracking the curve of the muscles. He brushed his finger lightly over Shiro’s entrance, making him twitch, and slowly pressed him finger inside. There was enough lube for almost no friction, and he eased Shiro through the initial sting, pumping the finger in and out to get his muscles used to the feeling.

“Ready for my cock, Shiro?” Keith asked. Shiro whimpered and rocked back against Keith’s hand in response.

“God, yes, please,” Shiro begged.

Keith smirked and tugged his finger out, lining himself up with Shiro’s hole. He eased himself in slowly, allowing Shiro to adjust to the intrusion. Keith shifted his hips back and forth, pistoning his cock in and out, going deeper each time until his hips were flush with Shiro’s ass. He paused, panting, and rested his forehead on Shiro’s back.

“You okay there, Champ?” Keith asked. Shiro flexed his glutes in response and Keith hissed at the sudden, tight feeling around his sheathed cock.

“Yes, and right now I  _ really _ want you to move,” Shiro gasped, grinding his ass back against Keith’s hips.

“As you wish,” Keith said. He shifted back on his feet, pulling out part way, and set an easy pace, the only sounds in the room their gasps and the steady, slick rhythm of Keith’s erection thrusting into Shiro. Keith readjusted his hands on Shiro’s hips to get better leverage and sped up, sweat beading and dripping down the back of his neck. Shiro shifted and reached down with one hand to tug at his neglected cock, pulling his foreskin over the exposed head to jerk himself off.

Tears pricked at the corners of Shiro’s eyes, Keith’s constant rhythm making him want more, more, more. Even with the unwavering, pounding beat, Shiro could sense that Keith was in control, the pressure bubbling up inside of Shiro as Keith made sure that he hit just the right spot over and over to— _ oh _ .

Shiro came with a shuddering gasp, clenching down hard on Keith’s cock inside him. It only took a moment longer for Keith to follow him over the precipice, burying his cock as far as it could go inside Shiro.

Keith shuddered and pulled out slowly, giving Shiro a chance to adjust to the loss. Shiro turned to lean back against the wall facing Keith, still breathing hard. Keith grinned up at Shiro and threw the hand towel he’d put in his backpack that morning in Shiro’s direction.

“Sorry, I should have brought condoms for easy cleanup,” Keith said ruefully. “I’ll buy some next time I’m out at the store.”

Shiro wiped himself down, cleaning up Keith’s come as best he could and scrubbing roughly at the chipped blue paint on the wall where his own come had splattered. “Next time? You make me feel like Allura’s rule isn’t necessarily for the others.”

Keith bit back a laugh. “I see it more as a… challenge. She doesn’t need to know, and as long as she doesn’t know, why not have some fun with it?”

Shiro rolled his eyes and started to tug his clothing back on, Keith following suit. “I’m not opposed, so long as we stay on track with work.” Shiro shimmied his pants back on and almost tripped. Keith’s arm flashed out to steady him before he could fall on his sore ass, and Shiro flashed him an embarrassed-but-grateful smile.

Keith laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s get into it before Allura or someone comes down to check on us—I can’t quite get Jack’s emotions down right near the end. I feel like I’m just being whiney. Maybe you can give me some ideas?”

Shiro picked up his script from his forgotten backpack and settled into one of the folding chairs by the wall, crossing his foot over his knee, trying to get comfortable.

“Sounds good. Where do you want to start?”

* * *

 

Keith started sneaking kisses any chance he got. They weren’t exactly hiding their new relationship from the rest of the theatre, but they just knew that if anyone caught wind, Allura would stop asking Shiro to work one-on-one with Keith, which both agreed would just be a downright shame. They started getting riskier, whether it was to tempt fate or because of the thrill, but the quickie in the wings had nearly gotten them caught, and Shiro reciprocated Keith’s blowjob early one morning in the sound booth before Narti and Zethrid were in. Allura had asked them to go up and turn on the stage lights, and sent Keith to, quote, “show Shiro what buttons to press because you know what to do.”

...well, he knew what buttons to press, but they certainly weren’t the ones on the light board.

“God, fuck yeah, right there, Shiro!” Keith groaned through gritted teeth. Shiro thrust his finger in harder, pressing against Keith’s prostate as he deepthroated his cock, swallowing around the head of Keith’s erection and then pulling up again. Keith bit the sleeve of his jacket to keep from being heard. He came hard down Shiro’s throat, and Shiro choked for a moment, spitting some of the come into the trash can under the light board. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked up to Keith, who adjusted his clothes.

“You look like the cat that got the cream, Shiro,” Keith said smugly. He offered his hand to Shiro to help him up from the floor.

Shiro grabbed Keith’s hand and pulled him down to the floor with him instead, rolling them over so that he was lying on top of Keith and kissed the actor soundly.

“Can I help it that you make me happy?” Shiro asked, burrowing his head in Keith’s shoulder.

Keith let out a stifled laugh and tangled his fingers in Shiro’s white forelock, wrapping the other arm around Shiro’s waist awkwardly.

“You make me happy, too, Shiro,” Keith said, sighing contentedly as he scritched Shiro’s scalp.

Shiro hummed and closed his eyes for a moment, but a sound at the door made him bolt upright just as the handle turned.

“Hey guys, you’ve been up here for fifteen minutes. Allura was wondering if everything was o—kay?” Hunk asked as he opened the door to the small room and saw that Shiro was helping Keith off of the floor. 

“You okay, buddy?” Hunk asked, confused. There was nothing on the ground that could have tripped Keith, and he was a triple threat actor with the grace of a ninja, so Hunk knew he was quick on his feet and not liable to clumsiness.

Keith’s face turned bright red and he replied, “I managed to trip over my own feet. I’m fine, nothing’s bruised besides my ego.”

Hunk looked skeptical but said nothing, choosing instead to keep his thoughts to himself as he mulled it over.

“Okay, then. Allura wants us to work on ‘Your Fault’ with Pidge and Romelle while we wait for Honerva to get here for her part of the scene. She shouldn’t be too much longer, maybe an hour? I could use the practise. I think my timing is a little off and I don’t want to throw you guys off, too.”

Keith readjusted his jacket, tugging on the hem. “Okay, let’s get down there.” He clapped Hunk on the shoulder and they made their way back downstairs to the stage. Keith glanced behind him at Shiro briefly, giving him a small glowing smile.

* * *

 

They tried to be secretive about it, but Hunk noticed that look.

“I’m telling you, Shiro and Keith are dating!” Hunk exclaimed that night. He, Pidge, and Lance were back at their apartment piled onto their couch watching The Great British Bake Off on Netflix while Hunk painted Pidge’s toes a bright green to complement her complexion.

Lance waved his ice cream spoon at Hunk dismissively. “That guy? No  _ way _ he notices another person like that! He’s too busy being the perfect actor.” He stabbed the Rocky Road ice cream tub with the spoon and shoveled another scoop into his mouth, chomping on the chunks merrily.

Pidge rolled her eyes at Lance and jostled him, stealing the spoon from him to snag some rocky road for herself. “Well they may not be dating, but they’re  _ definitely _ fucking. I saw them coming out of the sound booth with you, Hunk. You know, after they’d been MIA for fifteen minutes when Allura sent them up there to turn on the stage lights?”

“Yeah, so?” Lance asked, swiping his spoon back. He took a giant scoop of ice cream and stuffed his face. He hadn’t been there at the time.

“Keith’s pants weren’t zipped up,” she said, “ and they were both  _ significantly _ sweatier than when they’d gone up there.”

Lance choked on his ice cream and had to bolt from the couch for the sink in the kitchen.

“Hey, you messed up Pidge’s nail polish!” Hunk exclaimed. “Now I’m going to have to start over.” He grabbed the acetone and started wiping up the smeared polish to begin again.

Lance came up sputtering. “There’s no way—Pidge, you can’t be serious!”

She leveled her gaze at him. “I’m dead serious, Lance. I’m like Sirius Black, I’m so serious.”

Lance continued to cough and ran the tap to guzzle water and clear his throat. When he was satisfied he wasn’t dying at the hands of rocky road ice cream, Lance grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it nearly to the brim, bringing it back over to the couch with him just in case.

“I still don’t believe you guys,” Lance proclaimed. “Keith isn’t anyone’s type.”

Pidge hummed noncommittally and turned up the volume on the TV. She knew Lance wouldn’t believe it unless it was right in his face.

_ “On your marks, get set: BAKE!” _

* * *

 

_ “Anything can happen in the woods / May I kiss you—? / Any moment we could be crushed / Don't feel rushed.” _

Dress rehearsal was upon the Paladin Theatre, and there was frenetic energy that hadn’t been there before. It threw Shiro for a loop, the cheerful insanity that all the others seemed to possess. They practically lived and breathed their moments in the theatre, and would take most of their meals in the rehearsal room (because, “ _ No, Lance, we will NOT eat food on the stage, we are not savages and I will not have pizza grease mucking up our set.” _ ). Shiro probably learnt more about the others in that one week than he had in the months since he joined them. He wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing or not.

The downside of the constant energy and workload was that he and Keith couldn’t find the time to themselves. When they weren’t at the theatre, they were passed out from exhaustion in their own beds long after dark, only to begin the day anew shortly after the sun rose the next day.

It wasn’t just about the sex. Sure, Shiro had gotten used to Keith sweeping him up in the middle of the day at the theatre to sneak off to a secluded—or even a not-so-secluded—area of the theatre to mess around, but that wasn’t all that he cared about. They’d come to rely on each other to get away from the stress of the day, to be able to vent, relax, goof off away from everyone else. Shiro started to notice triggers that would set off Keith’s anxiety. The green room became their space to get away from the noise, and Shiro did what he could to help. More often than not, it involved just cuddling on the couch in companionable silence, but those moments had become few and far between as opening night loomed closer. They barely had a moment’s rest to just… be. 

Shiro thought all of these things while watching Lance croon to Axca as the Baker’s Wife from the stage’s wings. He sat at his stage manager’s desk pouring over his marked-up script, checking over what he and the crew needed to do for the next scene change. He pushed off of the desk hard with both arms to be met with searing pain shooting up his arm, making his veins feel like they were on fire. 

He let out a strangled cry, grasping his right arm with a white-knuckled hand as he fell to his knees. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he breathed through the pain, in for seven seconds, hold for seven seconds, out again for seven seconds. Shiro’s ears were ringing, and so he didn’t notice right away that anyone was next to him until he could finally look up and found Keith kneeling at his side, worry in his eyes. Lance and Axca were standing behind him. They had been the closest to him since they were on the stage.

“Sorry,” Shiro gasped, struggling to stand back up. “My arm gave out. I’ll be okay. I’m okay.”

Keith reached out with an uncertain hand, clearly not wanting to hurt Shiro. 

“I can do it, I’m fine,” Shiro said bitterly. He’d had plenty of experience having to get off of the floor without the use of one or both of his arms in the past year. Keith raised his hands up in silent apology, but Shiro could see the concern in his eyes. He felt ashamed for how he responded.

He got up shakily, still clutching his aching right arm, and turned to Keith, who had stood up at the same time as him. “I’m sorry, I just…I’m in a lot of pain. I need to sit down.”

Keith set his hand at the small of Shiro’s back in a gentle not-hug. “It’s ok, Champ. Let’s get you down to the audience.”

Shiro leaned in to Keith’s touch and let him guide him down to the front row, sinking down carefully into the plush chair.

Allura rushed over to them, Coran in tow. “Is everything alright, Shiro? We heard you cry out from the audience.”

Coran had brought the emergency kit from the director’s booth with him. He took one look at Shiro’s pallid complexion and set the kit down on the floor, knowing that he wouldn’t be any help, and kneeled beside him, careful not to touch him.

“Do you need a glass of water?” Coran asked. 

“Water would be good,” Shiro replied. The pain in his arm had started to subside, and he released it from his death grip. He had to stretch and loosen his hand a couple of times, he’d been gripping it so tightly. 

“You can go back to rehearsal, everyone,” Shiro said. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” Allura asked, concerned. Coran returned with a glass of water, which Shiro accepted gratefully.

“Of course. Give me ten and I’ll be okay.”

Everyone broke away hearing that and the actors reconvened on the stage. Keith shot Shiro a worried backwards glance, but Shiro waved him off with his good arm to join the others. Once everyone’s backs were turned, he massaged the life back into his arm, starting at the bottom and working his way back up. He didn’t have time to deal with this, he was needed backstage.

Shiro was so focused, he didn’t see the set of violet-grey eyes trained on him for the rest of the evening.

* * *

 

Keith and Shiro didn’t get the chance to talk properly after that incident, and were swept up into the last week of dress rehearsals. It was the Tuesday before opening night, just a few days away, when they finally were able to take a moment’s break from running around and rehearsing the show. They met on the catwalk above the stage, because every other nook and cranny was too public, or too loud, or filled with people. The catwalk wobbled a little as they walked across it to the alcove where the little-used thundersheet hung.

Keith leaned against the brick wall of the building, his hands tugging at Shiro’s hips to draw him closer. They didn’t speak, didn’t need to yet, they just reveled in the sensation of being close to each other, sharing the same space without running around all over the place. They shared a deep breath and laughed quietly at the realization of the moment.

“Are you really okay, Shiro? I’ve been worried,” Keith asked, kissing Shiro’s stubble-covered cheek in feather-light brushes of his lips. Shiro had forgotten to shave that morning, and from the way Keith looked at him, he wondered if it was a look he should keep.

Shiro sighed. “I really am okay, I promise. My arm is completely fine now.” He pulled his head back slightly to look at Keith with a playful grin. “Now what can I do to get you to stop asking me, hmmm?” 

Keith bit his cheek to keep from smiling back at Shiro. He pursed his lips, as if in thought. “I don’t know…maybe you need to give me some suggestions?”

Shiro rolled his eyes and leaned forward to brush his lips against Keith’s lightly. “I suppose I will,” he said in a hushed voice.

He ran his left hand up Keith’s arm and pulled him in close, kissing him with an almost manic energy. They were both so wound up from the stress of the show and the thrill of finally being able to be alone together again that they were already hard. Shiro wanted nothing more than to ravish Keith’s body, to stake his claim and never let go. He didn’t know quite what the feeling was, only that he wanted to chase it to the end of the line.

They made quick work of their clothing, shucking jeans and underwear to floor of the alcove, unafraid of getting caught. Shiro pulled the single-use packet of lube from his back pocket before the jeans had dropped to the ground. He lifted Keith up, pinning him to the wall, and buried his cock inside Keith. Shiro had to kiss him quickly to stifle his cry and pounded into him. He knew they wouldn’t have long, and he made fast work of taking Keith apart.

Shiro was so close, so so close, when Keith’s scrambling arm stretched out against the wall, trying to find something to hold onto, and made contact with the thundersheet. A booming crash echoed throughout the theatre and Shiro stilled his motions immediately. The two shared a panicked look and in an instant, Shiro had pulled out and settled Keith on his feet and they were scrambling to get their clothes back on.

“What in the bloody hell do you two think you are doing?” Allura’s voice cried out. She had climbed up the ladder on the side of the stage and was half-hanging off of it with her eyes clenched tight, as if willing the image of the scene before her from her mind.

“We—we were just, uh _ — _ ” Shiro stuttered.

“You were just  _ having sex _ in  _ my theatre _ , is what you were doing! Shiro, of all the people _ —I told you no sex in my theatre! _ It was one of the first rules I told you, on day one!”

Shiro’s face was bright red as he finished zipping up his jeans. He rubbed at his face with one hand, cringing as Allura continued to berate them. Keith’s face was equally flushed, but he just leaned back on the wall that he had been in the middle of being thoroughly fucked against not moments before.

Allura held onto the ladder with one hand and pointed at the both of them in turn. “Both of you downstairs right now. I never want to see this again. Do you understand?”

“Y—yes, absolutely, Allura,” Shiro agreed immediately. He couldn’t believe that she’d caught them, but it really was their own damn fault in the first place.

“Good. We’re starting at the top of the show in five.” She didn’t spare them a second glance, but made her way quickly down the ladder, shaking her head and muttering to herself,  _ “God, actors. The whole lot of them are too horny for their own good.” _

Once she was gone, Keith started chuckling, biting his lip to try to keep from laughing out loud.

“Well, that was interesting,” Keith said, pushing off of the wall to step toward Shiro. “I’ve never been on the receiving end of one of Allura’s lectures before.”

“How can you laugh?” Shiro demanded. His hand dropped to Keith’s waist and he buried his beet-red face in the crook of Keith’s neck.

“Because it isn’t a big deal. I think she’s officially seen everyone having sex, now,” Keith said with a laugh, patting Shiro on the back in consolation. He paused. “Well, maybe not Coran. Hopefully. That would be awkward.” 

Shiro groaned and stood back up straight. “We should get back to the stage, I need to get the set ready,” he said. “Let’s never talk about this again, agreed?”

Keith nodded his head and stole a kiss from Shiro. “Never again, you got it.”

Shiro took a shuddering breath and stepped away from Keith, making his way down to the stage manager desk in the wings.

  
  
  


On the opposite side of the stage, Pidge held her hand out to Lance.

“Pay up, I told you they were fucking,” she said, smiling innocently.

Lance rolled his eyes. “We live together, Pidge. I’ll buy you something nice later, okay?”

Pidge stuck her tongue out at Lance. “Fine, but you’re not off the hook. I’m holding you to that.”


End file.
